


Resolve

by Robin_Mask



Category: Bleach
Genre: Drama, First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Male Slash, Oral Sex, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-15
Updated: 2009-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-25 00:36:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2602130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robin_Mask/pseuds/Robin_Mask
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is one similarity between love and war: resolve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

# Chapter One

 

Ichigo had changed.

 

It wasn’t as if that was necessarily a bad thing, after all he knew that people were constantly changing from the day they were born until the day they died, it was a fundamental part of being human. He knew that the person we are today could change in a heartbeat, that in a year, a month, a week or even a day we could transform completely, that everything that defined us could shift and move, like liquid into a new container. He expected to grow, to evolve, to become somebody new, but this was different. _Ichigo_ was different. This change wasn’t like a steady growth over time; this change was abrupt, sudden and redefined him as a person. It felt like everything he was had been ripped away from him, leaving him an empty shell that had forced him to find a new identity, find a new way to again be human . . .

 

He remembered a time – long ago – when he’d cry when he was upset, smile when he was happy and scowl when he was angry. He remembered fighting Tatsuki not because he had something to prove, but because he enjoyed connecting with a friend through a sport they both loved. He remembered being ‘special’. He remembered going on those loving family picnics, or being hugged in strong arms full of paternal affection, and he remembered his mother walking on the side of the pavement closest to the road, just to protect him from any splashes. Then in a heartbeat, a teardrop, a gasp, it had all been taken from him.

 

His mother had died, and with her a part of Ichigo died too. His mind was cast with thoughts of ‘if only’, his heart was consumed with regret, and each time he opened his eyes he could see her final dying moments playing out one more time in the shadows, and he knew that he had caused them. If only he hadn’t chased that child into the water, if only he had been strong enough to know the truth or to see the girl for what she really was, if only he’d been a _real_ son and protected his mother and saved her from what had happened. He should have done something. He should have protected her! It was because of him that his father lost the love of his life, it was because of him that his sisters had lost a devoted mother, and it was because of him someone so pure and kind had died so violently.

 

He blamed himself. Of course he blamed himself! How could he not?

 

Not only had he killed his own mother but the world knew it too. His father suddenly decided upon ‘tough love’ and that he had to know how to ‘defend himself’, which meant random attacks and punches every other day, sometimes he’d even be asleep only to get awoken by some physical abuse. Yeah, his father claimed to love him, yeah apparently learning to fight would come in handy later on, but why all this now? Why after his mother had died? Maybe it was just an excuse to get even, to get back at Ichigo, to make him suffer the way his family suffered? It wasn’t enough that he was some freak who could see ghosts, that he’d lost one of the few people who mattered to him, now his own pops had to make him suffer too? He couldn’t blame him though, not after what had happened, and maybe that’s why that bright and beautiful he once had died . . . Maybe that’s why on that day when Masaki died that his smile died too.

 

It never got better after that either. At school he was always the kid with the orange hair, the one they mocked and made fun of and tried to beat up, and until he learnt how to fight back he did get beat up too. He wasn’t just an outcast with the other kids either, because of how he looked, because of the trouble he got into, the teachers had decided to judge him as well, as if he wasn’t even worth their time. So that was it? He didn’t belong with the other pupils, the teachers obviously lost faith in him and he’d lost that happy, family home long ago, so what now?

 

Maybe it was all Ichigo’s fault, maybe there was something so fundamentally wrong with him that it drove people away, maybe that was why no one seemed to care about him.

 

Goddamn it, even the Shinigami only seemed to care about what he could _do_ for them and never about him for the person he was. If they cared about him then why would Rukia have decided to stay in the Soul Society rather then with Ichigo, her supposed friend? Why would they not believe him when he tried to rescue Rurichiyo and announced the traitors as who they really were? Then again why should they trust him or care about him? It was he who wasn’t strong enough to defend Rukia when Byakuya came to take her away, it was he who wasn’t strong enough to defend Orihime when the Arrancar came, and it was he who’d let so many people down in the past.

 

Was it any wonder then that he’d changed from that boy Tatsuki once knew? He couldn’t even remember the last time he smiled, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d shown anyone any affection or received any affection in return, and he couldn’t remember the last time he felt happy. Every day to him seemed to be one of regret, of pain, of loss, and when he didn’t have time to feel those emotions it was only because he was forced into battle and forced to fight others in order to protect them and make things right. It didn’t matter though. He didn’t expect to be happy again, he didn’t even think he deserved it, so what did it matter?

 

The thing that drove Ichigo crazy about the whole thing was this: if it didn’t matter – if _he_ didn’t matter – then why the hell was he so nervous about visiting Mr Hat-and-Clogs for?

 

He’d been standing outside Urahara Shop for a while now, just trying to work up the courage to go in and see what the hell the old guy wanted. Part of him was worried it was another mission from the Soul Society, especially when he wasn’t in the mood to go chasing souls at that moment. Another part of him was dreading hearing the words ‘Ah, Ichigo! Just who I wanted to see!’ because that of course meant being given lots of grunt work to do, all under the lure of ‘special training’ after, which was never usually as special as the man made it sound. Worst of all was whatever Urahara had planned Ichigo knew he’d wind up doing it anyway, like Ishida said Kisuke Urahara could sell a refrigerator to an Eskimo, and that silver-tongued snake would no doubt have Ichigo wrapped around his finger in seconds of entering.

 

After working up the energy to face the shopkeeper he decided to head straight in. The shop seemed filled with new stock and overall the place was pretty quiet; it seemed Renji was out somewhere because he couldn’t hear sounds of the poor redhead roped into slave labour, and by the sounds of things Jinta was busy torturing Ururu outside somewhere, where Tessai was Ichigo didn’t want to guess. The place seemed calm enough, normal enough, and there wasn’t a hint of a Shinigami anywhere, but he wasn’t ready yet to let down his guard . . . with Urahara one should never let down their guard.

 

The brown-haired man was sitting cross-legged in his usual spot, holding his hat with one hand as if he’d just put it on in a hurry, and in his other hand he was fanning himself casually with that large, white fan he always seemed to have at hand. There was a cup of green tea beside him still steaming, and a smile plastered onto his face that seemed only half there, as if half of his mouth was pulled down in indifference and half upturned into a smirk. Like usual there was a hint of stubble around his chin and he was wearing the same damn outfit as always, making Ichigo wonder if the shopkeeper even owned more than one set of clothes.

 

“Ah, Ichigo! Glad you could finally make it,” Urahara beamed, suddenly fanning himself all the more as he tilted his head back enough for his eyes to be blocked out in shadow, “I was starting to think you weren’t going to come!”

 

“I wasn’t, but you didn’t leave me much of a choice. It’s hard enough to ignore you as it is, let alone when you use that stupid watch of yours to torment Kon every hour on the hour, until I agreed to come. Seriously, do I even want to know why a mod-soul in a stuffed toy _needs_ a communication device?”  

“Oh come now, Ichigo, this was important! You’re not going to hold my intellectually superior methods of communication against me now, are you? Not when we’re dealing with a life or death situation as we speak?” He paused for a dramatic moan and tilted his head for a somewhat melodramatic expression, “I didn’t think you could be so cruel. My, whatever are we going to do with you Ichigo?”

 

Ichigo scowled menacingly as he sat down on the floor, in front of Urahara.

 

Suspicion was beginning to take a hold of him, so with wide eyes he leant forward to take a closer look at his sensei’s face, unfortunately the damned man had his fan conveniently covering his mouth and his hat shielded his eyes from view. If Ichigo didn’t know any better he’d swear the guy was laughing silently at him, mocking him right in front of him whilst Ichigo remained entirely ignorant.

 

He knew better than to confront Urahara though, for the moment he was getting the crazy shopkeeper act, one full of eccentricities and over-the-top acts that left one wondering just what was _really_ going on, but if he confronted Urahara he knew they’d be hell to pay. When faced with conflict the shopkeeper went from an eccentric idiot into a serious threat; his face would become passive and stern, his body would become tense and somewhat muscular, and in seconds you’d find yourself victim to a severe guilt trip, mental games or a battle to the death. None of which were particularly appealing when Ichigo was feeling like warmed-up crap, and besides, if they got into some sort of petty argument now he’d only pay for it later. It was best to let Urahara get what he wanted out now rather than suffer for it later on.

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Ichigo mumbled indifferently, trying not to show how worried he was by blowing the matter off as if it was nothing, “Just what is it you wanted from me anyway? You said it was important.”

 

“Indeed it is!”

 

There was a longish pause, almost as if Urahara was waiting to add to the drama or simply just to torture the orange-haired youth until he was out of his mind with annoyance: “So? What’s it about?”

 

“Ah, it’s about Renji.”

 

Goddamn it, getting information out of the man was like getting blood out of a stone. The bright side was you knew he was great at keeping secrets, the bad side was when you desperately wanted to know something his lips were stuck tighter than the purse strings on Tenth Squad’s budget.

 

Ichigo had learnt over time to trust Urahara though, learning that there was a difference between wanting to know something and needing to know something, and if Ichigo _needed_ to know something then he could trust Urahara to give it to him straight. Judging from how the guy was beating around the bush he was probably reluctant to tell Ichigo what was going on, caught between whether it was necessary or unnecessary, but if he waited much longer to tell then Ichigo was as good as gone.

 

“Ichigo,” Urahara finally said, laying down his fan onto his lap, “What would you say if I told you Renji was in love with you?”

 

Ichigo blushed wildly.

 

What the hell? Did he just hear that right? Did Kisuke Urahara, owner of the Urahara Shop and former captain of Squad Twelve; did _he_ just say that one of his best friends was in love with him?

 

No -. No way! That couldn’t be right. Renji was obviously in love with Rukia, he’d been crushing on her for years, and even if he didn’t swing that way he’d spent his time in Squad Eleven surrounded by men, surely he’d have found a partner around that time? Even if he didn’t his captain was considered the hottest and most popular soul reaper in the Soul Society, and he was friends with Yumichika who no one could deny was a natural beauty. What could he possibly see in someone like Ichigo? For a start they did nothing but fight! Why would Renji like someone who did nothing but fight with him? Was Urahara for real? Goddamn it, if the shopkeeper was yanking his chain over something like this then he’d kill him! How was he supposed to look Renji in the face again after hearing something like that?

 

“I’d say you were nuts.” Ichigo snapped.

 

“And if I said I thought you were in love with him too?”

 

“I’d say ‘I hope you take a nice, long ride on an unsheathed Benihime’.”

 

At this Urahara sighed and took a sip of his tea. He could see the scowl on Ichigo’s face, the twitching of his eyebrows, the gnawing of his lips and – most of all – he could see the crimson blush that marked his cheeks.

 

He’d somewhat expected a hostile reaction. The boy was still innocent, virginal and unsure of himself. He’d scream blue-murder when Yoruichi transformed back into a human – despite being a sight most men would kill to see – and he’d still blush and scream when Matsumoto flirted with him, and it wasn’t as though he was any braver with the same sex either. It was only natural to be nervous, unsure and put up such a strong defence barrier, but considering how obvious it was to virtually everyone that there was definite sexual tension between Renji and Ichigo, he’d expected a response not so violent. After all the two of them liked each other, so surely to hear news that he was liked back by the guy he liked would be good to hear? Instead Ichigo looked like he was ready to commit homicide.

 

After a few more gulps of tea he put his cup to one side and smacked his lips appreciatively, then turned to Ichigo to try a different approach on the matter. Ichigo was a fighter first and foremost, so perhaps if an honest and outright approach didn’t work than appealing to his inner hollow would. If Kisuke could challenge him, make him confront what he was really feeling, then maybe he could conquer whatever it was holding him back and accept that him and Renji would be . . . well . . . _cute_ together. At this point Ichigo was glaring suspiciously at him, but at least he knew he had the boy’s full attention.

 

“Ichigo, right now you’re reflecting nothing but fear.” He waited until the substitute Shinigami opened his mouth to retaliate before continuing in a slow, serious voice, “Love is a lot like war. There is only one thing you have to remember, but three things you must conquer. Like I said, right now you’re showing me a great deal of fear, and that’s not good.”

 

“Wait, a second . . .” Ichigo said suspiciously, “Haven’t I heard this speech before?”

 

“Probably, but seeing as you understood it when applied to the nature of a fight, I was hoping that you’d understand it when applied to the nature of love. If you find your resolve then maybe you finally can get Renji.”

 

“That’s the thing! I don’t want Renji, I mean there’s no way he could ‘love’ me for a start. He loves Rukia! He spent his whole life fawning over her and when she got arrested he was willing to sacrifice his life for her, even now she’s his reason for doing everything he does. How could I compete with that, even if I wanted to? I mean Rukia’s nobility and I’m just – I’m just a substitute Shinigami, not even a full-fledged one at that. Plus she’s cute, and I’m kind of weird looking, and I’m not exactly the nicest of people, am I? There’s just no way what you’re saying makes sense.”

 

Urahara smiled: “When you dodge, you're afraid of getting killed _._ ”

 

Ichigo glared at that. What? Was Urahara now calling him a coward simply because he made a good point that the shopkeeper couldn’t counter? Well in that case, screw him! He wasn’t afraid of anything, was he? Certainly not losing Renji.

 

Ichigo had lost so many people in his life already, when his mother died it had tore him up inside, he’d lost a shard of his identity that he’d never get back, and even now he still felt incomplete. He fought every day to keep the people who mattered to him in his life, he nearly even sacrificed himself just to save them, protect them and keep them by his side. How was his argument ‘dodging’ the matter? If he admitted his love to Renji and then the older man turned around and said ‘actually Ichigo, it’s Rukia I want’, then just how would he feel? He knew how he’d feel. He’d feel hurt, humiliated and abandonned, and just how could he put himself through those feeling again? He couldn’t! It would -. . . It would kill him.

 

Something in his face softened at that moment, it was as if he’d realised something he’d long since forgotten and he wasn’t sure what it meant. Did he like Renji? Was he scared of getting close to the guy because he was scared of losing him? Come to think of it Rukia wasn’t that close to Renji anymore, and Renji seemed to think of her more as a kid sister, the same way Ichigo himself felt about her, so was he just making up excuses? Maybe. It wasn’t as though he’d ever gotten close enough to Renji to know how the guy really felt about anything, sure he’d spent a lot of time with him but they’d never really talked about how they felt, not the way Ichigo had done with his other friends. Maybe he really had evaded Renji, made up excuses, hidden from him just so he could avoid being hurt?

 

“Grow up, Urahara,” Ichigo mumbled, slightly less sure of himself, “Even if Renji could like me, why would I like him? He has no fashion sense at all, dresses like some hippy half the time and did you see what he brought for Byakuya, those glasses were so stupid. It’s like I have to watch him constantly, just to make sure he doesn’t buy anything dumb and humiliate himself! Plus he’s such a dunce, you know? At school I told him to take off his gigai and the idiot had no idea what I meant, we spent so long fighting that Orihime’s friends had us down in some sort of homoerotic relationship not after long. Oh, and that gun! What kind of freaking moron brings firearms into a country where guns are banned? Come on!”

 

“When you attack, you're afraid of killing someone.”

Ichigo blushed wildly at that one.

 

Was he afraid of hurting Renji? Of course not! The guy could take care of himself after all, he used to be in Squad Eleven and he was already a Lieutenant, it wasn’t as if Ichigo had to worry about ‘killing’ him.

 

The fact was Renji was powerful enough to handle whatever came his way, like with the whole fashion thing, Ichigo could mock him forever and a day but it wouldn’t make a difference, Renji was too hard-headed to take anything Ichigo said to heart. Not that Ichigo was _trying_ to hurt him of course, he only attacked his clothing sense because walking around like a reject from the sixties wouldn’t help the guy fit in, and Renji would have a hard enough time as it was what with his blood red hair and tattoos. In fact Ichigo hated to admit it but if he actually hurt his friend by insulting him he’d be kind of gutted, he only ragged on him to try and help him out because if he just openly said what he felt then he’d probably get laughed at in return, if he made fun of the situation then it was more like he was one of the guys than an overly worried housewife.

 

That – that didn’t mean he was afraid of hurting Renji, even though he criticised him, it didn’t! The guy was still completely stupid after all, like with the whole ‘take it off’ scenario or the firearms? True he hadn’t been in the human world for long and he got his ideas of society from TV shows, but that wasn’t an excuse, if he acted like that for long enough he’d have been in serious trouble! If anything by screaming abuse at him then he was getting it through that thick-head what was right and what was wrong, he was in a way helping Renji, because God only knew that if he sat and spoke calmly about things the older man would have only shrugged it off.

 

Then again, did the things he say actually hurt Renji? He’d never actually thought about it before, he just assumed the other guy could handle a few insults and take it in good humour, and when he fought back it was just Renji’s way . . . but come to think of it did Renji ever act that way with anyone else? When his captain criticised him he took it seriously and treated his words with respect, when Rukia criticised him he usually shrugged it off unless he had a serious reason not to, so was it just Ichigo who he dished abuse back at? Maybe there was a reason for that. Maybe he took what Ichigo said to heart and was upset, or maybe he thought so little of Ichigo that he thought he was above the other guy and that his opinions didn’t count? He never really considered how his words affected Renji before, so maybe it was time he started . . .

 

“Okay, maybe you have a point,” Ichigo said with a sad sigh, “I might try and avoid thinking about how I really feel about Renji, because frankly it kind of scares me, you know? And I’ll admit I never mean to hurt him when I give him all that abuse, I’m just trying to help in my own way, but that idiot probably doesn’t get that, does he? Still, what makes you think he likes me?”

 

“Renji might be a freeloader who’s fun to torture once in a while –” Urahara gave an embarrassed smirk as Ichigo scoffed at this, but he merely raised his fan and continued, “ – but he tells me things, he’s become like a pupil to me. You remember that day when Baishin reawakened? Renji told you he’d came by just to see you and you called him a liar, said he merely wanted your help.”

 

“So?” Ichigo asked, dreading where this was going.

 

“He was telling the truth.” He paused when he saw the orange-haired boy wince at this, trying to cover it up with a cocky expression of indifference, “And do you remember when he wanted to ask you something and you blew it off, because something distracted you? He wanted to admit his feelings to you.”

 

Ichigo cringed.

 

He hadn’t known that, not at all. It never occurred to him that Renji had been telling the truth; instead he just assumed the man had been trying to save face and his pride, and he’d blown him off like he was nothing. He couldn’t imagine how much that must have hurt Renji. He knew himself what it was like, what it was like to love someone and care for them only to have them dismiss your feelings like they were nothing. It was like a knife through the heart, a sharp pain that was hard to ignore, impossible to forget, like a very part of your inner soul was being tossed aside and annihilated. The blow to one’s confidence from a rejection like that wasn’t one you could just get over, it was like a scar, every time a similar situation cropped up you were reminded of when that scar was just a cut, of the pain that you felt, and you would find yourself withdrawing from everything just to avoid one more scar being added to your soul.

 

Renji was his friend. He’d been there through nearly every fight, every battle, he’d stuck by his side through everything and when -. Ichigo paused and shook his head, as if it’d clear his thoughts. When Rukia was kidnapped, when all their memories were gone, when the whole of the Soul Society had branded him an intruder and danger, it had been Renji who’d stood by his side, who had trusted him, who despite not knowing a single thing remembered that gut feeling and inner self. Renji had remembered – if not him – then their relationship, his feelings, his trust for Ichigo! Then how did Ichigo repay him? The same way as always, with jabs on his appearance, with blowing off anything he said, by treating him with the same contempt as always, and why? Why did he do that? Why was he so intent on hurting Renji Abarai? Why, damn it!

 

“This – this is stupid! Even if Renji did feel that way for me, even if I felt that way for him, it’s not like we could be together! What if we were an item? We’d have to tell everyone and what would people think? What would my father think, or Renji’s captain? Also in case you haven’t noticed we’re at war with Aizen! Renji and I could die any minute, and then what, Urahara? You want me to give my heart to someone else only to have them die on me too? You want me to fall in love with Renji, to be with him, to plan a future with him, only to have him taken away from me? Forget it! I won’t do that again! I won’t! It’d hurt too much damn it, I don’t think – I -. I couldn’t do it again . . . I just couldn’t!”

 

“Even when you try to protect someone, you're afraid of letting them die.”

 

Was that it? Was that the crux of the matter? Was he afraid of letting Renji in his heart because he was terrified of losing him? Better to be alone than to face the pain of rejection, of abandonment, of death . . . If allowed himself to fall in love with Renji and then had to lose him, Ichigo would die alongside him. He’d already lost a piece of his soul when his mother died, what would happen if he lost the only part left, if that piece of him died too?

 

He’d spent his whole life with a scowl and a frown, shutting people out rather than trying to keep them in, and now Urahara wanted him to face that problem, that issue, that trauma. He actually thought that comparing his life to something like war, to the battle he endured trying to get stronger, would help him understand? Well he did understand, he understood the pain and the anger and the loss, and most of all it made him wonder . . . was he weak for not facing his fear? Was he denying himself some possible happiness in order to fight that fear off?

 

“Ichigo.”

 

Urahara’s smile had faded and instead had been replaced with a serious expression. It was times like these Ichigo knew why he loved the man so much, why he was so guilty about burdening him with his problems and relieved to hear from him when he needed him. It was because Urahara was the father he’d always needed.

 

His own father couldn’t understand his feelings and if he ever was honest with his dad he knew the reaction he’d get, some melodramatic, over-the-top expression of sorrow that would make him feel guiltier than when he’d first gone to him. Urahara though . . . Kisuke Urahara seemed to have an innate grasp of people’s souls, he’d understand nearly any problem, and when you needed someone to be serious, to treat you like an adult, he’d do that. He’d set aside his own silly nature to be the rock you wanted to lean on. For that Ichigo would always respect him.

 

“Ichigo, long ago your sword spoke only of fear, but you conquered that fear, you made Zangetsu your own. A while ago your inner soul spoke only of fear, fear of your inner hollow, but you conquered that fear and made your hollow submit. There are men who go through life unable to face what it is they fear, instead running from those fears not realising they are merely running from a shadow, something that’s a part of them and intrinsically attached to them and their hearts. To run from a fear is to run from a shadow, to run from a shadow is to run from yourself. You find that no matter where you run that fear is always with you, and until you confront it you are always afraid. You are always a coward.”

 

Ichigo knew Urahara was talking in general terms but he still felt those words as if they were spoken specifically about him, as if they were aimed at him and insulting him personally . . . It took all his strength not to tense up and act out, and even more than that to act with the maturity he needed to apply those words to himself.

 

“Your soul yet again speaks to me only of absurd fear,” Urahara continued, “You’re scared of letting yourself love another, and scared of letting yourself be loved. One cannot walk this world alone, Ichigo; you may find the strength of others around you is exactly what you need to defeat Aizen. What’s necessary in a fight is not fear, and what is necessary in a relationship is not fear. Nothing can be born of fear. Nothing.”

 

“So what am I supposed to do?”

 

A faint smile darted over Urahara’s lips, his previous spark of energy was back and his passionate expression was as alive as ever, his very soul seemed to glimmer with a deep understanding Ichigo was starting to feel he could finally understand . . .

 

“What you need, Ichigo Kurosaki,” He said warmly, “Is _resolve._ ”

 


	2. Chapter 2

## Chapter Two

If there was one thing Ichigo could say about Shinigami, it was that they were _very_ predictable.

 

When it came to actual Soul Reaper work you always knew which squads to rely on and which squads to stay away from, which would do the paperwork and which wouldn’t, which would use traditional methods and which would use unconventional styles. It seemed that even as individuals they didn’t really go for originality. Sure they might touch up their uniforms with some personal effects, but that really seemed to be about it. Who knew, maybe individuality just wasn’t a priority with them?

 

Ichigo could give plenty of examples to prove what he meant, such as if you wanted to find Rangiku then you knew to try the couch in Hitsugaya’s office, where she’d probably be asleep, and if you wanted to ask Kira any serious question then you knew to prepare for a blush and a stutter. The most predictable of the lot seemed to be the captains. At least with the lieutenants and seated officers there was _some_ variation, like maybe one day Rangiku would be out drinking or shopping, or maybe you might catch a rare day when Kira would smile and laugh at you. The captains though were so predictable that you didn’t really ever need to go to them, you always knew exactly where they’d be, what they’d say and what they’d do.

 

So when Ichigo had asked Toshiro where Renji was, he knew right away from his reaction that the redhead was probably out drinking somewhere with the other Shinigami. The way Toshiro’s eyebrow twitched, the way he crossed his arms as a lock of his white-blonde hair framed his face, and the way there was a low groan before he finally seemed about to burst . . . yup, they were definitely out drinking, and most likely at the expense of work too.

 

It seemed that Rangiku’s last immortal words before leaving the apartment were that ‘a friend or two’ was just ‘dropping by’ from the Soul Society, and ‘it’d be rude not to welcome them, don’t you think, Captain?’ That was said over two hours ago along with the promise to ‘be right back’, so understandably the captain had been more than a little annoyed. It seemed Toshiro had a very good idea where to find them, but all the establishments they frequented had an age limit, one that kids Toshiro’s age weren’t allowed into. Plus besides that a call was coming in from Ukitake, he couldn’t leave his gigai to take the call as the silver-haired man would notice the difference, and he didn’t want to send his gigai after Matsumoto unless she dragged it along for her crazy ride. So – on the condition that Ichigo was willing to drag the ‘hopeless slackers’ out – he gave the addresses of the most likely places they’d be. It was a pretty extensive list so it was numbered according to probability, and it was izakaya number four where he eventually found Renji.

 

The izakaya – or what some of the foreigners called a ‘Japanese tavern’ – was a small one, located not far from Ichigo’s house, which was rather convenient as it meant he was essentially travelling in a full circle. He’d been to Urahara’s from home, to Toshiro’s from Urahara’s and then home – dropping by the izakaya on the way – from Toshiro’s. The group of drunken Shinigami couldn’t have planned it better if they’d tried . . . It was just too bad Ichigo hadn’t known that and had to visit a bar, a nightclub and a karaoke spot all on the other side of town first, but still it was on the way home and that’s all that mattered.

 

Outside the izakaya was nothing special. There were one or two signs up advertising bargain meals, and another telling customers which days drinks were half-price, and it was sandwiched in between a convenience store and a sushi shop. Inside however was pretty nice, not as tacky or common as what the outside seemed to suggest. The décor was warm and friendly, a traditional style with wooden beams and woodcuts on the walls, a smell of incense wafted over from a far corner, some soft enka music drifted around the room and an alluring smell of freshly cooked food captivated Ichigo from the moment he walked through the door.

 

Ichigo wasn’t sure for a moment or two he had the right place, but after a second there came a raucous sound of group laughter and the waiting staff seemed to scatter about unsure of themselves, there was also a sound of something breaking . . .

 

He gave a loud sigh and walked through the seating area. 

 

He found that beside the open-kitchen the seating continued and there was a large window that opened out onto a view of the town’s river, this part of the izakaya was almost like a private room as it was out of sight from the entrance, and the toilets were located the other side of the building so no one tended to walk past. The table occupied at the moment was right in the corner; there were empty bottles all around along with glasses and half-full bottles all over the floor. What little space was left on the table itself was filled with plates of food – empty, half-eaten or full – and some were balanced precariously in places for lack of space, and the guests themselves seemed just as misplaced as the items.

 

In the very corner Matsumoto let out a girlish scream of enjoyment and leant over the table, filling up the empty cups with strong sake, whilst opposite her Shuhei seemed both engrossed with staring at her chest and playing badly on a guitar. Ichigo hadn’t any idea who’d convinced him in a drunken stupor to play, where he got the damned thing, or even that the lieutenant had any musical abilities, all he knew was that the sound of the playing would haunt him forever in his nightmares. Kira for some reason seemed to be in a severe state of undress along with Shuhei, and Ikkaku was giving some verbal abuse to a poor waiter whilst attacking his surroundings with a wooden sword. Yumichika seemed oddly quite sober, sitting respectfully in a feminine position sipping quietly from a cup of green tea, and meanwhile Renji sat opposite him telling jokes, and judging by the very amused look on Yumichika’s face they were rather funny too. 

 

Ichigo slowly walked over to the table and wondered if Renji would be sober enough for a real conversation, he was also beginning to realise just why Toshiro was so pissed off. If he were left in charge of a bunch of drunkards, like these four and their friends, then he’d be pissed off too. He stood silently behind Renji and waited a few minutes for someone to notice his existence.

 

“I can’t believe it!” Yumichika gasped over his tea, eyes wide whilst still maintaining a look of beauty, elegance and poise, “Your captain really did that? In front of Zaraki too?” Apparently he was drunk after all; otherwise he’d have never forgotten the title ‘captain’ . . .

 

“Yeah! You should have seen it,” Renji said laughing, throwing his hands up so wildly that his sake spilt everywhere, some onto Ichigo himself, “The screams were so loud I swear they heard it from outside the office! There was a mess everywhere! They didn’t speak for a week after!”

 

Ichigo coughed loudly and waited until they turned to face him to speak: “Do I really want to ask what you guys are talking about?”

 

At once Renji seemed to sober up.

 

He placed his cup carefully on the table and looked up at Ichigo with warm brown eyes, eyes that were admittedly somewhat dilated from the alcohol. Despite the usual hardness that was uniquely Renji, there was a softness in them that spoke of kindness and sincerity. It was as if even amongst friends he couldn’t bring himself to let his guard down, as if he had to hide behind that wall of coldness and cockiness, as if by taking that wall down he’d be hurt and destroyed.

 

Maybe the two of them really were alike, maybe – like Ichigo – Renji had that hidden side of him that just couldn’t stand to suffer anymore, he’d lost his friends growing up and lost Rukia to Byakuya, so maybe he just couldn’t stand to let someone in just out of fear of losing them? If that was the case then just how much had Ichigo already hurt him? He’d blown Renji off lots of times, criticised him and rejected him, mocked him and fought him, and all the while Renji had harboured feelings of love for him and hoped for them to be returned, only to have them thrown back in his face. Another person who couldn’t love him, another person who had hurt him, another person who would leave him, and yet Renji had ignored those feelings of abandonment and stuck by Ichigo through thick and thin, even risking his very soul to go into Hueco Mundo and help Ichigo. Was it possible that Renji still loved him or had he given up?

 

They simply stared at each other for a long few moments but eventually Renji sighed and turned his gaze away, that heavy look came across his face and marred his expression, making him seem almost aloof or indifferent. Ichigo had seen it many times before and always put it down as an ‘oh god, you again? Fine, sit down and shut up’ kind of look, but now he had to wonder. It was possible that the expression which made his eyes half-lidded, his mouth sink and his face seem longer was one of both pain and pleasure, a relief in seeing the face of the man he loved but a pain in not being able to have that loved returned. It must have been like wanting something, craving something and having it just in reach, but just too far to have, like waiting in class for the bell to end so you can see your friends, or wanting a new shirt but lacking the money that week, or dying of hunger but unable to get to any food . . .

 

“Yo, Ichigo!” Renji said, his expression changing in a quick heartbeat to one of kind of sarcastic smile, that smile that seemed so genuine but so faked all at once, “Sit down, we’re just getting the party started!”

 

“I’ll pass,” He said quickly but not harshly, “I was kind of wanting a word with you, Renji. You sober enough to talk?”

 

“Of course! I’m not like Kira there, I can hold my drink quite well, thanks.”

 

Ichigo dared a glance over at Kira and winced. The guy was so flushed in the face that he looked pure red, his eyes were pretty dilated and – apart from being half-naked – he was acting pretty strange too. He was slurring his words, leaning right into people’s personal spaces, and seemed to be caught somewhere between crying and laughing. Ichigo had assumed he’d had a lot to drink but it was possible, like Renji said, he was just bad at holding his liquor. He was pretty worried actually. Kira seemed like the kind of guy you’d open the office door to and find him hanging from the ceiling one day, so seeing him drunk enough to allow Matsumoto to play some sort of game where losing clothing was involved was terrifying . . .

 

“Is your friend okay?”

 

Renji blinked a few times as he grabbed a bottle of beer for a swig, “Huh? Kira? Yeah, he’s fine. He was pretty close to Ichimaru – very close.” He turned and waggled his eyebrows at that, something that made Ichigo blush indignantly and turn away. “When the guy left he was really down in the dumps, then that Amagai guy comes along and he thought he’d found someone he could trust, you know? Then the guy goes and kills himself! Shocked us all that did, but for Kira there it was a bummer, he loved Gin and got abandoned and then trusted Amagai and got betrayed. Can you blame him for wanting to escape with the guys now and again?”

 

“No, I guess not.”

 

“So what was it you wanted anyway, Ichigo?”

 

Suddenly Ichigo found himself rather flustered. He’d came looking for Renji to tell him how he felt, that he was finally able to admit he liked the guy, that he wanted them to be together once and for all. Now that he was here though, looking into those chocolate brown eyes that seemed so sceptical and uncertain, he felt nervous and weak, almost like he felt before the heat of battle but without the excitement that came with it.

 

Maybe he was being foolish but he felt . . . scared. He couldn’t just come out and tell Renji in front of the others as he’d be mocked and laughed at, and if he wasn’t then they’d be a big pressure on Renji and he could end up humiliating the guy. Worst of all was that he was terrified he could finally reveal how he felt and not hear those words back. What if Renji’s feelings had changed? What if he’d given up on Ichigo? What if he saw them as just friends? Ichigo didn’t think he could take that kind of rejection, that kind of pain, it was just too much to deal with at the moment. Yet he couldn’t stop looking at those eyes, those eyes that seemed to bore into him like needles through flesh, staring up at him with a raised eyebrow and an expression that spoke of indifference and mild annoyance. Was – was Renji disgusted by him? So fed up of chasing after him that he now found Ichigo’s presence an irritation?

 

_‘When you dodge, "I won't let them cut me.”’_

Well he wasn’t going to dodge this. He might ‘dodge’ the rest of them but Renji he was going to confront, going to be honest with, because if he hid from how he felt then he’d never get to be where he wanted, he’d never get the guy he loved. If he evaded Renji then – sure – he wouldn’t get ‘cut’, he wouldn’t get hurt, but what kind of life would that be? A life without love all because he couldn’t take risks. He needed to take Urahara’s advice and resolve himself to love the way he would to a fight, in fact this was a fight, it was a fight for love! He’d fight to get Renji, damn him, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer!

 

“Damn it, Ichigo,” Renji said in anger and sadness, “You’re always like this. Why don’t you ever just say what you want? What the hell are you trying to hide? Well, if you’re not going to talk to me then just sit down and have a drink, I can’t be bothered to be chasing after -.”

 

“Renji, I can’t tell you here, it’s private.”

 

Renji’s expression turned to one of curiosity, he closed his eyes as a slight smirk pulled at his lips and then he shook his head clear of all thoughts, letting out a rather smug sound of contentment. He took a big gulp from a beer bottle beside him, and then smashed it down hard on the table, wiping his lips on the back of his hand. Rangiku seemed a little overeager to be in on the conversation when she overheard the word ‘private’, but luckily for Ichigo it seemed Shuhei was kindly distracting her with some music he’d learnt from Chad.

 

“Okay, Ichigo,” Renji said with that rather unnerving smirk, “I’m willing to talk privately with you. Urahara’s place okay?”

 

“No, I know what Urahara’s like, great as he is he’d be listening at the door or ‘accidentally’ walking in on us.”

 

Rangiku gave a large ‘ooh’ sound and clapped her hands loudly enough to attract the whole groups attention, “I didn’t know you swung that way, Ichigo! Does Urahara walk in on you and Renji often?”

 

Ichigo spluttered wildly for a few long moments, his face bright red and now feeling rather light-headed as the whole group just stared at him, Renji was simply sipping casually from a wine glass with a smug look on his face. It was hardly helping, and Ichigo was starting to hope the guy would have a huge hangover from mixing his drinks. The only ones in the group who didn’t seem phased were Yumichika and Ikkaku; in fact Ikkaku just slid in beside Yumichika and wrapped an arm around him with an all-knowing smile to Ichigo. It actually reassured him. It was like saying ‘if they have a problem with it, they have a problem with us too, you’re not alone’, and that was just what he needed.

 

“Ignore Matsumoto,” Renji finally said, putting his drink down to stand up. He staggered slightly but quickly found a sense of balance, although admittedly he had to rest a hand on Ichigo’s shoulder to find it. “How about we go talk at your place?”

 

“That’d be great. My dad’s hanging out with Ishida’s dad tonight, I think he’s planning on being out for a while, and my sisters should be asleep by now. Kon won’t be a problem; I think he’s with Rukia in the Soul Society at the moment . . . that or he’s still locked in a drawer and I forgot to let him out.”

 

“So no one to eavesdrop on us then?”

 

“No, we should be fine.” Ichigo drew in a deep breath; amazed that this had gone so well so far. He hadn’t expected Renji to be so open to talking with him, especially alone, but he was kind of glad, he could only hope the rest of the evening would go so well too. “I’m not in soul form, so I can’t flash step, so you okay with walking?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, just lead the way, Ichigo.”

 

* * *

The walk back had been in silence, not an awkward silence, but a kind of companionable and restful quiet. It was a still night with not many people out and about, and despite the glow of the city they could see a few stars twinkling above in the sky, the air around them was crisp but certainly not chilly, and overall it was a pretty good evening to be walking in.

 

Renji had kept up some light conversation, mainly on Soul Reaper gossip and each time Ichigo asked him anything personal – like how he was getting on at Urahara’s – he’d clam up, as if he was hiding something. Ichigo didn’t push the matter as he knew Renji was a private person as far as that sort of thing was concerned, he was already being treated as the ‘freeloader’ and it was a knock to the poor guy’s pride, he probably felt inferior and the guilt-trips Urahara and his family gave were pretty severe too. He knew Renji hated it there, he worked his ass off every day trying to ‘pay back’ Urahara, who truthfully wasn’t even at all bothered by Renji’s presence, but to offer the guy some sympathy seemed kind of cruel. The last thing Renji wanted was to be felt sorry for, to be pitied, and so Ichigo had let him change the conversation back to mindless gossip.

 

He was grateful when they eventually made it back to his house, and even more grateful that he’d been right with what he said earlier at the izakaya, it seemed his dad was still out and his sisters were asleep – Karin in fact had fallen asleep on the couch, watching horror films from the look of it. He smiled and draped a blanket over her before leading Renji up into his room.

 

It was then when it became rather awkward.

 

Renji sat down on the edge of the bed, looking over at Ichigo with en expression of curiosity and hope, his face was kind of serene and calm but yet there was a slight edge there, an almost kind of fear in his expression. Maybe he was hoping that Ichigo would confess to him, but fearing a rejection? Maybe he was feeling the exact same way that Ichigo was? Frankly Ichigo was terrified, he wanted so badly to tell Renji what he felt and hear it back, but he knew there was always the possibility it could go badly, that Renji wouldn’t feel the same way anymore. What would he do if that were the case, if he humiliated himself confessing, only to hear ‘sorry’ or worse in return?

 

He sat down nervously on the chair by his desk, less than a foot away from Renji but feeling as if they were miles away, his legs were parted somewhat and he clasped his hands between them like in prayer, with his head lowered nervously. He had no idea where to start, where to begin, and so he was more than thankful when Renji was the one to break the silence.

 

“So, what did you want to talk about, Ichigo?”

 

_‘If you protect someone, "I won't let them die."’_

So this was it . . .It was time he told Renji just how he felt, and he was still terrified, terrified of losing Renji because of it . . . but he had to remember what Urahara had said, love was akin to war and the only way to win in love or war was through resolve, through that solid determination to win at all costs. He was scared of being hurt but if he let himself feel that fear he was diminishing a possible moment of happiness, or worse setting himself up at a disadvantage so Renji would say no. That was the thing, if he wanted to protect himself and win Renji over then he had to fight, he couldn’t take no for an answer, he had to do this and win! It wasn’t enough to fight for the sake of fighting, or fight just to survive, one had to fight to win, and that’s exactly what he was going to do: he was going to win Renji.

 

Ichigo gathered all his determination and looked up into Renji’s face, making solid eye contact, all the fear he once felt he pushed to one side and gave a look of unyielding determination and passion. He loved Renji and if he was going to do this he was going to make the other understand, he wasn’t going to allow himself to be hurt, because he believed – he knew – Renji felt the same way back, and so he had to make him understand. He wasn’t going to give up.

 

“I want to talk about us, Renji.”

 

Renji blinked a few times and looked at Ichigo with confusion, “Us? What about us?”

 

“I – well – it’s like – I just -.”

 

Damn it, why had this gone so much smoother in his head? He could already feel his cheeks heating up, and he felt like he was stuck in the baths with Yoruichi again, only that had been innocent and this felt . . . well it felt serious, and that made it all the more terrifying and embarrassing for some reason. He could feel Renji’s eyes on his skin and it made him feel both hot and vulnerable, like his very soul was on show, being observed and watched, and it wasn’t a feeling he was used to. Still, he had courage and strength and he could come out and say it if he needed to, this was Renji he was talking to after all. Renji. Renji . . .

 

Ichigo smiled warmly. It was like he’d finally understood – this was Renji Abarai and he loved him, and he trusted him. He knew that if Renji didn’t feel the same way back he wouldn’t mock or belittle Ichigo, he’d been in love himself before and he’d experienced the loss of Rukia too, he knew what Ichigo felt and he’d be sensitive to that. He also knew – somewhere deep down – that Renji _did_ love him, _did_ feel the same way and _did_ want him, if he confessed then Renji would confess back, or he at least hoped so. If this love were real then it would be returned, and Renji would love him back, and if that was the case what had he to be afraid of?

 

“Renji,” He said calmly, although still with a blush, “I love you.”

 

The redhead merely blinked and looked somewhat shell-shocked, “Huh?”

 

Ichigo turned bright red and scrunched his eyes tightly shut as he groaned aloud, his face turning into a scowl. Damn it, he’d spent the whole day working up the nerve to confess his soul to this man, and all he could respond with was ‘huh’? If it wasn’t for the fact it’d scare Renji away he’d be damned tempted to punch the guy about now, seriously who ever responds to a declaration of love with ‘huh’? Jackass.

 

“Yeah, real elegant, Renji.” He snapped, folding his arms stubbornly.

 

“Well forgive me, but it’s not like I have my best friends saying that to me every day! It’s hard to know how to react! What do you want me to do? Give a Shakespearean soliloquy? Screw you, Ichigo!”

 

“What the -? I just tell you I love you and then you go and insult me? Way to go, Renji, way to make me feel loved and appreciated! My feelings aren’t hurt at all, are they? Jeez, why can you grow up? I didn’t expect you to give a speech, but a simple acknowledgement of what I said would have been nice!”

 

“Oh my God, you’re such a girl! I swear if you start some sort of hormonal, PMS tirade I’m out of here!”

 

“Goddamn it, why did I have to fall in love with you? You’re such a jerk!”

 

“Like it’s any better for me? I could have fallen in love with any one in the Soul Society or here in this realm, but no -! I had to bloody fall in love with Ichigo Kurosaki, didn’t I?”

 

Ichigo shut up at once and it was his turn to sit in shock.

 

Had he just heard that right? Had Renji just confessed to being in love with him? It didn’t make sense, none at all, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to question it, just hearing those words had stopped his heart in his chest and made his breath come out in shallow pants. He felt overwhelmed, the sense of relief he felt was just too much to bear, like his whole body was coming down of an adrenaline high and now he was experiencing the rush of endorphins. He felt calm, relaxed, but kind of on edge and unsure, like he had to be careful in case this fragile dream was shattered any moment now. He couldn’t help but note how Renji was now blushing wildly, unable to look at him, but instead seemingly fascinated by the patterns on the floor. Ichigo found it rather cute, and the realisation that it was cute scared him more than the one that he loved Renji.

 

He smiled and gently pushed himself out of his desk-chair and sat down beside Renji on the bed. They were now only inches from each other and Ichigo could feel a kind of strong burst of energy between them, like his body was suddenly alight and on fire, simply from being next to Renji, simply by being close to him. It was a nice feeling, and it reminded him of that sense of belonging he felt as a child, a feeling he thought he’d never feel again.

 

“So you love me?” He asked softly.

 

“Yeah, I love you.” Renji mumbled.

 

“So, why the hell were we arguing?”

 

When Renji shrugged Ichigo felt ready to kill him, it was like he was almost dismissing what was between them or denying his own feelings, and Ichigo was frustrated. Then – before he had a chance to confront the other, Renji spoke:

 

“Ichigo, I love you, I do, but this is hard for me. When we first met I admit you fascinated me, but my opinions of you weren’t that great, I kind of blamed you for a lot of stuff and you know that, but things changed, we changed. I got to know you and we became friends and I – I fell in love with you. I tried to tell you so often but you never seemed to want to listen, in fact you didn’t even seem to like me that much, I can’t help but wonder what’s changed that?”

 

“Well, actually I’ve always kind of liked you,” Ichigo said and swallowed hard, “When everyone got amnesia that time I was annoyed no one could remember be, but when you forgot me I felt hurt, I didn’t feel hurt when anyone else forgot me, just you. When you decided to trust me I kind of lit up, I felt so happy, you wouldn’t believe it. I just thought they were feelings of friendship, Renji, I was scared to admit I loved you.” He sighed and looked down at his hands, “I was scared because I lose everyone I care about and it always hurts, but I care about you ten times more than anyone else and so if it hurts so badly to lose them, just how bad would it hurt to lose you? I couldn’t bear it. Can you blame me for hiding my feelings?”

 

_‘If you attack, "I will kill them."’_

 

He saw Renji smile and felt relieved. It was a warm, sincere and beautiful smile, one that the redhead rarely gave and one that actually meant the world and more, it was one that made Ichigo’s heart melt and made him yearn for Renji more than he could possibly admit. He loved Renji, he wanted him, and he’d never let him go. He couldn’t believe he’d waited this long to confront him and tell him, but now he had he felt like a weight had been lifted and he felt happy, and most of all he wanted Renji to know – to _really_ know – that he meant what he said. He wanted Renji to _know_ that he loved him, trusted him and wanted him.

 

Without a word he gently reached next to Renji and pressed his fingertips lightly on his friend’s right cheek, turning his head softly to look at him head on. Renji’s skin felt so smooth, so warm, and so perfect that it made Ichigo smile to himself and cast his eyes lovingly upon the redhead, making him wonder why he’d never take the opportunity to caress his face before. There was a slight blush to Renji’s face too, a wideness to his eyes that made him look so nervous, and his lips were parted just ever so slightly, enough to make Ichigo’s blood boil inside at the sight of it.

 

Then – without warning – he pressed his lips chastely to Renji’s.

 

It was a beautiful moment, one pure and innocent that existed only to express an emotion so deep that no words could convey it. His heart fluttered at the feeling of being so close to someone else for the first time in his life, and his eyes carefully fell shut at the sensations enveloping him. Renji’s lips were warm and moist against his, full and plump, parting just slightly enough so that they overlapped his own and that their breaths ghosted one another, each one’s breathing merging into the other’s to become one. He risked moving his tongue so that he could taste those lips, and as he did he could taste the strong alcohol and something that was uniquely Renji.

 

It took all his energy and strength to pull back, to bring himself away from Renji’s tempting mouth, but he knew deep inside that he had to. He didn’t want to move too fast and he wanted to give Renji time to think, he didn’t want to push for a deep, passionate kiss just in case the other wasn’t feeling that, and it was possible that he needed time to think things through. Yet as he pulled away he could feel his own lips tingling, his own face flushed, and his own breath coming out in pants.

 

He looked at Renji with half-lidded eyes, surprised at how even just a small and soft kiss could leave him wanting more, begging for more touches. He lowered his hand slowly, letting it trail over Renji’s bright t-shirt and jacket, before dropping into Renji’s lap to hold at his hand, entwining his fingers in his. He tried to hold back a wave of embarrassment and nervousness, tried to find comfort in the hands of another. Just feelings this close to Renji made his head swim, his heart race, and his body shudder, he could only hope the other didn’t think him a fool.

 

“That was your first kiss, wasn’t it?” Renji asked softly with a warm smile.

 

“Yeah,” Ichigo mumbled back, squeezing his partner’s hand for reassurance, “Why? Was it bad?”

 

“No way, it was perfect.” He said with a wink, “Of course you could do with some practise, but I’ll be more than happy to help you out with your technique, what do you say, Ichigo?”

 

“Pervert.”

 

Renji laughed kindly as he saw Ichigo look away with a scowl in his expression, his cheeks pure red as if they’d just been painted crimson, and his mouth but a tight and tense line.

 

The little strawberry really looked good enough to eat, he was just so damned cute and adorable, and each time he reacted to the small little comments Renji was reminded of just why he’d fallen in love with him to begin with. It was hard to explain but somehow Ichigo made him feel complete in everything they did, and most of all he made him feel human and worth something. Ichigo always treated him as an equal, a friend, had always told him the truth and been honest with him, and he’d never forget that honesty or ever take it for granted. He loved Ichigo, and he was thankful to all the gods for this chance at being with him. He loved him.

 

This time it was Renji’s turn to take control of the kiss. He firmly – yet gently – took a hold of Ichigo by his chin and turned him around to face him, meanwhile his other hand grabbed a hold of his firm, muscular shoulders and guided the somewhat shell-shocked boy onto the bed. He took a moment to lift Ichigo’s legs onto the bed and then pull him further up, so that his head rested comfortably on his pillow, and then allowed himself to hover over him with a warm smile, hopefully one which would reassure Ichigo somewhat.

 

Then he leant down and kissed Ichigo for real. At first the younger man was reluctant to part his lips, almost in shock or fright, but as Renji braced his weight on his right forearm he used his left to caress Ichigo’s neck and shoulders affectionately, massaging them as he looked lovingly into his mate’s eyes. Throughout the kiss he made sure to keep his eyes open, even if Ichigo didn’t, relishing the expressions the boy gave as their lips pressed against one another’s, enjoying the somewhat embarrassed yet loving look Ichigo possessed. The kiss started soft, slow, but then as Ichigo grew more relaxed and accepting Renji pressed onwards, deepening it so that a fire spread deeply within them both.

 

He pressed his tongue against Ichigo’s mouth and smirked when he felt the other open up, allowing him entrance. Inside Ichigo tasted heavenly, something indescribable, like cinnamon and cream, and the heat and warmth he exuded was enough to bring stirrings of an erection to Renji. Ichigo tasted so sweet, he felt so hot, and although the kiss was sloppy and their teeth occasionally clashed, Renji couldn’t help but love and adore it.

 

Ichigo was certainly inexperienced, but he was a fast learner by far, soon enough he was mimicking Renji’s movements and their tongues were warring against one another, when not exploring the caverns of the other’s mouth. The sounds his little strawberry was making were delectable too, he was more vocal than Renji had imagined, moaning each time the kiss became hard and forceful, sighing when they’d part softly for air, and letting out a sound somewhere between a hiss and a moan when the kisses became sweet and affectionate.

 

He kept his hands playing upon the back of Renji’s neck, and groaned loudly when Renji pulled away and began trailing kisses up and down his long, white column of neck, and nearly yelped when he nipped playfully at his collarbone. Every now and again the redhead would move back up and return a heartfelt kiss, only to then move to the other side of his love’s neck and begin to nip, bite and suck playfully on his virgin skin. At some point Ichigo’s hands became glued in Renji’s hair, and a particularly harsh love-bite had him all but screaming in both arousal and pain, pulling at those red locks so that his ponytail came loose, and a crimson shower of hair cascaded down, framing Renji’s face and features. The sight was beyond breathtaking, and Ichigo couldn’t help but feel mesmerised by it.

 

It was then that Renji pressed his lower body down, his clothed erection pressing against Ichigo’s own, so that both their members were lit with lust and arousal, the friction causing them both to weep with pre-come and moan loudly with desire and pleasure. Ichigo’s hands moved at the sudden pressure, clenching deeply into Renji’s shoulder blades, whilst Renji could only squeeze his eyes shut and refrain from giving into temptation and frotting against Ichigo then and there.

 

Somewhere – deep inside himself – he found the strength to pull back from Ichigo and look down at him, watching his soft expressions as he turned his head to the side from embarrassment, his lips swollen and red, his eyes shut as his mouth panted out harsh breaths. The boy looked so delicious, like a sex-god in human form, and everything about him exuded sensuality. Renji wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold back if they kept this up.

 

“Ichigo,” He said softly, stroking his love’s cheek and leaning down so close that when he spoke his lips moved on untainted skin, “We should stop.”

 

“W-Why?” Ichigo asked.

 

He threw his head back to look Renji directly in the eyes. He had a kind of fearful expression, and now his heart was beating for a whole new reason, he looked so cute and innocent it was both endearing and worrying.

 

“Am I doing something wrong, Renji? If it’s about Yoruichi, Matsumoto and Nel teasing me all the time for being a virgin then it won’t be a problem honest! I – I mean who wouldn’t get flustered with Yoruichi striding around naked, or Matsumoto practically flashing everyone, and Nel’s just a kid, like she even know what the word means,” He tried not to blush but failed, only then realising he was fighting back tears. “Okay, I’m not experienced, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to be bad, and -.”

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Renji said defensively, as he lifted himself up onto both arms so that he could look down at Ichigo and see his face clearly, “This isn’t about you being a virgin as such, though it’s nice to know I’m going to be the first man to enter uncharted territory.” He winked, only just managing to grab a hold of Ichigo’s hand before the punch connected, and instead forcing his hand back down beside his head to hold it lovingly. “I just didn’t want to move too fast for you, for us.”

 

“Too – too fast?”

 

“Well, yeah,” Renji said. He was kind of perplexed as to why Ichigo looked totally confused and embarrassed, he would have thought the fact they were moving quickly had been pretty obvious. “I mean I’m personally ready to do you right here and now. I love you so much, Ichigo, that it hurts. I’ve spent the last six months chasing after you, wanting you, loving you and as far as I’m concerned I want this to be a long-term thing, maybe even permanent, but . . .”

 

“But?”

 

“But the thing is I’ve – _you know_ – done _it_ before, so I know what to expect and for me it’s not really like we’re rushing into things, because I’ve wanted you for so long and I’m not exactly doing anything new here. You though, Ichigo, are new to this. You’ve only just worked out you love me, so I’m guessing you’ve matured enough to know the difference between a crush and love, but to go from that into _making_ love is a whole new story. To make love to someone you have to completely trust them, you have to know that no matter what happens – even if you were to break up – that you wouldn’t regret it, because this is your first time. The only two times that ever matter are your first and last. I don’t want to rush you because I don’t want you to regret this, Ichigo. I don’t want to move too fast for you.”

 

Ichigo took in a deep breath and let those words sink in.

 

Truthfully he hadn’t even been considered losing his virginity to Renji, or at least not tonight, maybe a few months into their relationship, but not tonight or right now. He was expecting them to make out, maybe fool around a little, but not all out sex, it just seemed too much, too soon. Yet when he thought about it he knew that he wanted it, he yearned for it, he loved Renji and he wanted him but the thought of sex with him kind of scared him. He wasn’t sure what to expect, what to do, what he wanted, so he could only bite at his lip nervously and groan out in frustration.

 

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Renji asked with such compassion that it made Ichigo’s heart melt, “This is a bit too soon for you, isn’t it?” Ichigo nodded, unable to put his feelings into words. “Well, don’t worry. I’m not going to hold it against you, I still love you, we can wait for however long you need.”

 

Ichigo dropped his head back onto his pillow and let out a long sigh.

 

He felt rather guilty really, like he’d almost led Renji on. He was pretty hard right then, and he was aching a little too, desperate for more, and he was pretty sure Renji was feeling the same way also, so to leave him high and dry seemed kind of harsh. He’d planned this evening on making Renji feel loved and wanted, and instead he was leaving him aroused and frustrated, what kind of boyfriend did that make him? No doubt Renji was already regretting his decision to be with Ichigo, and the realisation he couldn’t go through with the sexual act itself pissed him off no end, after all if he trusted Renji then why couldn’t he just go ahead and do it?

 

“So I guess you’re heading back to Urahara’s now then, huh?” He threw his arm over his eyes and tried to blank out the embarrassment and disappointment of what had just occurred, “I mean, I guess we’re done here?”

 

“God, you’re such a moron!” Renji shouted, loud enough to no doubt wake his sisters, “Do you really think I’m just going up and leave after something like that? Hell no! I’ll stay all night if I have to, just so you know that you mean more to me than sex. I’m going to sleep beside you, and you’re going to shut up and let me, and if you snore I’ll beat your ass with Zabimaru! God, you’re such an idiot.”

 

Ichigo smiled warmly and pulled back the covers beside him so that Renji could climb in, admittedly with a lot of mumbled swearing and threats, and once the redhead was in he climbed in next to him.

 

It felt kind of awkward at first but after a few minutes he felt Renji’s arms around him, enveloping him in a sweet, warm embrace. He could feel himself pulled back into that hard, chiselled chest and hard, solid abs and felt content, nurtured and safe. He could feel Renji’s hot and hard breath on his neck, reminding him that the other’s presence would always be there. It was the first time he could remember ever sleeping in the same bed as someone, and he’d half expected it to be awkward or uncomfortable, but instead it felt nice, really nice. True it was strange going from making out, to shouting, to sleeping all in a matter of minutes, but this was Renji, and he kind of expected such erratic behaviour. It was part of what made him love the guy so much.

 

He could feel himself nuzzling into the other’s embrace, and Renji in turn leant his head in the crook of Ichigo’s shoulder and inhaled deeply, laying soft kisses onto his skin that were chaste and affectionate. Despite Renji’s previous bitter threats it was a romantic moment, something sweet and pure and – bless the redheaded idiot – he was even angling his lower body away from Ichigo, so he wouldn’t be reminded of Renji’s arousal and that it’d be pure and solely about love, not lust. He had no idea that Renji could be so considerate, kind or adorable, and he liked it. He looked forward to seeing more of this side of Renji; he really did . . .

 

“I love you, Ichigo.”

 

“I love you too.” He whispered back, before falling into a deep, contented sleep . . . 

 

* * *

 

Ichigo hadn’t been surprised with how quickly their relationship had progressed.

 

He loved Renji, he really did, so when his father asked the next day just _why_ the ‘crazy redhead with the gun’ was in Ichigo’s bed he was honest, there was no point in hiding the fact they were dating after all, not if they seriously wanted a future together. So he put up with the lectures, obsessive yelling and then the crying over the memorial poster, and smiled when Karin finally had enough and kicked the old goat-face, but truthfully he was just glad his family accepted them. He wanted nothing more than to be with Renji, but his family meant the world to him, if he hadn’t had their support he wasn’t sure he’d have been able to cope.

 

The Shinigami had been pretty open and accepting of their situation too. Rukia had agreed not to just barge into his room anymore, Ikkaku seemed intent on sharing rather detailed relationship advice to Renji, and Byakuya and Toshiro had just grunted and warned them not to let it interfere with their work. Ichigo had to admit he’d been expecting a lot of fuss, so to be so openly accepted and welcomed was a huge relief; it was kind of heart-warming too. He’d spent his whole life afraid of rejection, abandonment, of losing the people he loved, and here they all were surrounding him and supporting him. It made him feel loved, and it was a feeling he treasured and appreciated, one he’d never take for granted, and – as clichéd as it seemed – he thanked Renji for all of that, for making him feel like he was part of a family, a unit, a circle again. He’d forever be indebted to the lieutenant.

 

So when – three weeks later from their first official date – they found themselves alone in Renji’s room, Ichigo decided to make the best of it. Urahara had kindly decided on a ‘family outing’, which was probably just collecting stock much to Jinta and Ururu’s disappointment, and Kon had the mod souls out somewhere and Yoruichi was no where to be found. They were completely alone in the house, totally in private, and Ichigo as determined to show Renji just how much he wanted him and loved him.

 

The evening had begun with kisses, slow and affectionate before evolving into ones of wild passion, and soon after that their clothing had been removed and hands started to explore all over. Ichigo couldn’t believe how hard he was, each time Renji writhed or growled he felt himself ache with desire, feeling both safe and dominated at once, like Renji’s very presence was enough to overpower him and make him crave for more. Even though it was his first time completely naked before Renji he felt relaxed with himself, his lover’s eyes weren’t judging but appraising, taking in every inch of his skin with a fiery passion and need. It made Ichigo feel all the more aroused to know he was wanted in such a way, and that his body could be so appealing to another.

 

Slowly he kissed his way down Renji’s body, his hot lips taking in the taste of skin layered with sweat, and his tongue bathing a path down from that tempting Adam’s apple all the way down to his naval. Renji’s body was perfect. His muscles were taut and solid from years of training, scars littering his skin like maps of his life, and he was marked by tattoos so intricate and fascinating that Ichigo was tempted to let his hands trail their patterns, to see where they took him. He adored the way Renji’s abdomen sort of flinched and pulsed with pleasure as his hands trailed over ripe thighs, and he loved the way Renji would grip into his hair and pull him as if unsure whether he wanted it to stop or wanted more.

 

Ichigo decided to carry on and make the decision for him. He felt confident, he knew he wanted this and he knew he could do it, and he didn’t want to wait anymore. He wanted Renji inside him, he wanted Renji to feel loved and adored, to feel the highest points of pleasure, to know that Ichigo was giving himself to him fully and completely, that he trusted Renji and wanted to express that love fully.

 

Yet when his mouth reached his lover’s groin, he paused in slight panic . . .

 

He knew his face was red at this point, his eyes staring wide open in the shock of seeing another man so close and so intimately, and his lips were parted and moist as he worked out whether to say ‘no’ to more or carry on with what he was doing.

 

When he looked at the member standing hard and straight he could only think how perfect it looked; sure it wasn’t the largest one in the world, but when Ichigo remembered how it had yet to go inside him he was grateful. It wasn’t too long or too wide, but enough to fill a man without hurting him, enough to make him feel pleasure without too much pain. Its red and angry tip tapped lightly on Renji’s lower stomach, and the vein on its lower side pulsed rhythmically, the length shimmering with pre-come and arousal. The balls and the base were surrounded by beautiful, red hair that matched perfectly that on Renji’s head, and each time Ichigo’s hot breath ghosted the smooth skin Renji would hiss and writhe on the futon.

 

“I – Ichigo,” Renji murmured, his hands grasping hard into his lover’s hair, “You don’t have to do this.”

 

Ichigo growled low in his throat and looked up at Renji with narrowed, scowling eyes, his expression one of pure murder. He knew full damn well he didn’t have to do this, he wasn’t some impressionable young kid coerced into anything, so way to go to Renji for stating the obvious and ruining the moment. In retaliation he licked a long trail up Renji’s member and tasted the almost tasteless tang of pre-come, before looking seductively at his lover and then biting him hard on his thigh – hard enough to make Renji yell out and punch Ichigo on his head.

 

“Bastard!” Renji snapped, “Why’d you bloody bite me?”

 

“Because you say some stupid shit, Renji.” Ichigo snapped back with a blush, “I know I don’t have to do this, okay, but I want to and it’s embarrassing enough as it is without you drawing attention to the fact. Anyway, who are you to complain? You’ve got a hot, horny teenager between your legs about to suck you off and you’re saying ‘no’? What are you, straight?”

 

Ichigo wrapped his hand lightly around Renji’s shaft and began to massage him to a steady, yet slow, rhythm, pulling up and down without the harsh jerking motion he heard girl’s sometimes tended to go for, and twisted his grip carefully as he reached the top for added friction. Occasionally he’d let his thumb stroke the weeping slit and smirk as Renji let out a shuddered gasp, before allowing his other hand to play with the heavy balls at the base, rolling them firmly enough that it caused Renji’s shaft to bounce in his grip.

 

“I just -,” Renji whimpered, “I just don’t want to push you.”

 

“You’re not pushing me,” At that he licked again at Renji, but this time at his slit for more of that unforgettable taste, curious now as to everything that was happening and wanting more, “I’ve known you for a long time now, Renji, nearly a year. I have faith that we’ll work out, but even if we don’t I know nothing will destroy our friendship, nothing. I won’t ever regret doing this with you; I love you too much to ever regret it. So just shut the hell up and enjoy it, will you? Jeez.”

 

“Ichigo . . .”

 

He gave up on hearing any more of Renji’s doubts and bent his head down, nearly devouring Renji whole. The first thing he noticed was how the redhead seemed to love this, he groaned and howled and clenched so tightly into Ichigo’s hair and shoulder that marks were sure to form. The second thing he noticed was how it felt for him; he felt a sense of control and pleasure from the act of pleasing Renji, a kind of pride in being able to make the other feel like this and enjoy it, and hearing the other moan and groan was a real turn on too.

 

It was a strange feeling physically also. His mouth felt full and when he tried to suck he could feel his cheeks hollowing, making him feel almost terrified of how he looked, hoping he didn’t look as ridiculous as he felt. He couldn’t make eye contact with Renji either – not this time – it was just too embarrassing! Yet he felt more connected with his lover than ever before. He enjoyed the feeling of hot flesh sliding down his mouth, relished the taste of pre-come that dripped at the back of his tongue, and loved the way Renji would virtually scream in pleasure as he licked up and down and tongued under the ridge of the head. The whole experience was overwhelming, amazing and most of all he felt a sense of peace from the act, like it was completely natural.

 

The only downside he could find was that he couldn’t fit the whole thing into his mouth, he must have got a good three or four inches in, but that very last inch was still outside of his control. He used his index finger and thumb to encircle it and jerk Renji off as his mouth sucked, but he still felt kind of inadequate for not being able to take the whole thing at once, especially as – no offence to Renji – the guy wasn’t that big. He’d heard the lads talking growing up and from what he heard women could take it all in at once, so why was he having trouble? How come only Ichigo couldn’t seem to do it?

 

Seeing it now as a personal challenge he moved his hand away and began to massage Renji’s thigh, as meanwhile he took a deep breath through his nose and lowered his head to take the whole thing in. Apparently it was the right thing to do as right away Renji was fighting back not to buck up into his mouth, moaning like he’d never experienced this before. It was even more embarrassing now though, as despite how much Ichigo tried he couldn’t help but make slurping noises as he sucked and bobbed his head, and he knew he was dribbling somewhat so that his saliva was no doubt dripping down Renji’s balls. His jaw was going numb too and he just wanted to close it, his mouth kind of ached. How the hell did girls keep this up for more than five minutes at a time?

 

It was then Renji thrust upwards.

 

It seemed beginner’s luck could only take him so far, and that deep throating wasn’t as easy as it seemed. Right away he felt that bulbous head pushing against the back of his mouth, making his whole throat contract and pull, a sensation not unlike choking. He could feel himself gagging and heaving, and he had to pull his mouth away so as to find breath and not puke all over Renji’s crotch, because nothing could be worse than that if he did. When he pulled away he wiped his mouth and looked up at Renji, his lover seemed more than a little worried but a _lot_ turned on.

 

“Idiot! I’ve seen you eat Orihime’s food, even I could have told you that you have a gag reflex, next time don’t push yourself to doing that else you’ll choke! You need to gradually work up to something like that,” He sat up slightly to hook his arms underneath Ichigo’s armpits and yanked him up so that Ichigo was now lying over him, then gently rolled them over so that Ichigo was lying _under_ him, “You’re such a beginner.”

 

Before Ichigo could argue back he felt Renji’s hot mouth enveloping his, and gave way into the most sensuous kiss he could ever imagine. He could feel his lover’s tongue exploring his mouth, taking in all his tastes and textures as if enjoying a gourmet meal, and he could feel Renji’s naked body pressed tight against him, their bare members thrusting against one another, causing exquisite pleasure. The feeling of Renji against him, the hard muscles of his back under his fingers, caused Ichigo to moan and wrap his legs instinctively around his lover’s waist, holding on tight.

 

It was then that Renji pulled back, panting heavily, and began to kiss softly upon Ichigo’s neck before biting down hard only to suck and lathe the area with the tongue, no doubt marking him with a love bite large enough for all to see. His hand trailed up Ichigo’s side and came to stroke at his cheek, at which point Ichigo was so overcome with lust and love he didn’t notice as those fingers slipped into his mouth. He barely even noticed that he was sucking and licking them, treating them the same way he’d treated Renji’s thick length, until they were removed abruptly, leaving him feeling like something was missing.

 

“Ichigo,” Renji panted, lightly laying soft kisses along his lover’s jawbone, “Once this is done it can’t be undone, are you sure you’re ready?”

 

“If – if I said ‘no’, then what?”

 

“Then I’d stop.” Renji smiled and kissed him chastely on his lips, “I’d stop, and I wouldn’t love you even an ounce less. Do you want me to stop?”

 

Ichigo gave a warm smile and kissed Renji with such passion he never knew himself capable of it. He felt like he was drowning in sensations, like his entire presence was being swallowed in that one kiss, like his whole being was becoming one with Renji who could only moan pleasurably as he ravished Ichigo’s mouth. He felt such love and adoration for Renji he could barely stand it. This man – who was completely overcome with arousal and lust – was still willing to put Ichigo’s feelings first, to out his needs before his own, sacrifice his own pleasure for Ichigo’s well being. He trusted Renji utterly, completely and fully. He loved him. This was a moment he’d never regret.

 

He pulled back and gave Renji such a loving look that the redheaded man blushed, and licked his lips nervously, and when he spoke Renji could do nothing but shiver and swallow hard: “I want you. I want this. Please, don’t stop.”

 

That was all Renji needed to hear . . .

  
He carefully lifted his body slightly so that Ichigo – with legs still wrapped around his waist – would be lifted off of the futon too, and his mouth continued to tease his lover and nip playfully at him, making him writhe and moan and buck up for that well needed friction. Then, slowly and carefully, he lowered his wet digits to Ichigo’s awaiting rear end and began to roll his fingertips around that virgin bud, not pressing in just yet but merely playing and toying with it, making it gape and wink at him. He wanted Ichigo to feel relaxed, to not fear what was about to happen, and so he put all his weight onto his knees and sat up, enabling him to use his spare hand to wrap around Ichigo’s erection, pumping it slowly.

 

“Breathe, Ichigo, and relax. This may be uncomfortable at first, or hurt when it goes in, but it _will g_ et better. If you want me to stop at any point – at any time – just say the word and I’ll stop. Got that?”

 

Ichigo nodded. Then that long, index finger began to enter him . . .

 

It didn’t hurt, it didn’t even feel uncomfortable, it just felt rather foreign and a little like he needed to use the bathroom. Renji’s finger followed the natural curve of his body, and he made sure to relax even as his inner walls clamped around the invading digit, and it was surprising how easy it was for Renji to jus slide in. The finger was just left there for a few moments as his shaft continued to be pumped, sending small surges of pleasure coursing through his veins, and then the finger inside him began to move, strange shapes, almost like he was being explored or examined . . .

 

Then came the second digit. It was more of a stretch than Ichigo had thought it’d be, in fact it kind of stung and pulled at him in a way that he wasn’t sure if he liked or not, it was indeed uncomfortable and made him shift and writhe as Renji began to stretch the two fingers apart. He hissed, and the moment he did the fingers were removed. He thought at first he’d done something wrong, that perhaps he was just so bad at this Renji didn’t want to continue, but then he heard the sound of scratching and shuffling and saw Renji searching through a drawer beside them, all the while working Ichigo’s cock as if it was the only thing in the world that mattered.

 

It was then he heard the pop of a lid, an almost squelching noise, and when Renji brought his fingers back out he saw they were full of a lubricant, most likely Vaseline or something similar. . .

 

“Ah,” Renji mumbled nervously, “When I asked Urahara for the place to ourselves he agreed right away, but said he didn’t trust me. I asked him what he meant and he just said to check my bottom drawer should it come to a point when Ichigo seemed to be hurt, at first I thought he meant a first aid kit because he assumed we’d be training but I guess he knew . . .”

 

Ichigo laughed. “Well we can thank the pervert later, for now let’s get back to business.”

 

Renji smiled and then carefully inserted all three, coated fingers inside Ichigo’s waiting hole. It was strange, a mixture of complete pleasure and pain, the fingers pulled muscles that had never been used before, making them stretch and tug sharply, causing Ichigo’s face to pull, but at the same time the cold Vaseline made them slip easily in, and created a sense of friction and ease. It wasn’t long before Renji was thrusting the fingers in and out, rotating them and clawing them, and then he touched a part of Ichigo that he never knew existed . . .

 

Ichigo let out what he hoped was a manly holler, but probably sounded a girly scream. Renji had touched that blissful spot inside him, sending waves of hot pleasure coursing through him and making his every nerve tingle in delight, he couldn’t help but arch his back and pull Renji closer to him. The feeling of that spot inside him made him see stars, made him moan like a whore, made him wish that he’d done this with Renji so damn long ago rather than only just now. Then those fingers were removed and Ichigo found himself lamenting the loss, whining like a child because he wanted them back inside him. Even when he looked with half-lidded eyes to see Renji thoroughly coating his length he still wanted something back inside him, filling him, _taking_ him.

 

Then without warning he felt Renji pressing into him. By God, it was the most perfect feeling he could ever imagine . . . he ached slightly and winced at the sting of slight pain, but he’d been lubricated and stretched so fully that he was able to take Renji to the hilt without much trouble. It was a truly indescribable feeling. He felt full, stretched, filled, and he could feel that hard muscles inside him so that each time he clamped down it felt all at once soft and hard, an impossible paradox, and the friction -! It was mind-blowing, like a massage from the inside out, so that he couldn’t wait any more, he wanted Renji to move and he wanted him to move now!

 

Renji however couldn’t move, no matter how much Ichigo wanted him to. He knew that his little strawberry needed time to adjust, to get used to a length inside him in a place no one had ever before used, and the last thing he wanted was for Ichigo to feel hurt or in pain. He wanted this to be a time he’d always remember, something he’d never forget, and he wanted that to be for all the right reasons, he wanted it to be because he felt nothing but bliss as he was brought to the very brink of heaven . . . 

 

It took a moment for him to regain his sense of composure too. Ichigo’s rear was so tight it was almost painful, an obvious virgin as he clamped down with exquisite torture, milking him for all he was worth and enjoying each minute Renji sat inside him. It was so hot inside him, so wonderfully hot, and when he eventually pulled out he could feel each ridge of that inner muscle against his shaft, rubbing him and tempting him, and then the squeeze as a once full space returned to being a now empty one.

 

When he was nearly out he paused and then forcefully, yet gently, plunged back in. Ichigo’s moans were so alluring and tempting, each one like listening to the pinnacle of lust and the personification of sex. Their rhythm was slow, sensuous, and yet full of meaning and desire. It was steady, an in-and-out without speed or power, yet perfect because it was truly making love, truly a gentle and caring moment that symbolised all their first time should be. It was the most amazing experience Renji could ever remember, and he wasn’t sure he could last long, but luckily he wasn’t sure Ichigo could either.

 

His lover’s face was scrunched up in sheer delight, his half-open eyes gazing upon Renji with nothing but adulation and his mouth parted with swollen lips, his sweet throat making such delicious noises it made Renji shiver with the sound. He was already raking fingertips down Renji’s tattooed back, thrusting back with some inaccuracy but great enthusiasm, and his member was now weeping copious amounts of pre-come into Renji’s hand. His body was coated with a thin sheen of sweat, and he looked like he was on the verge of an orgasm. Usually Renji would have been humiliated with having lasted on a short amount of time, and his partner even shorter, but the most was so damn hot and perfect he couldn’t help it, it was just too much to endure, so fantastic he couldn’t believe it.

 

He managed to thrust in a couple more times before Ichigo came hard.

 

The boy clamped his muscles around Renji so hard that is was impossible for him to hold back, especially when he could see how Ichigo’s back arched like a bow string, how his mouth opened wide as he let out a loud scream of pleasure, and feel as the younger male raked cuts down his back. He could feel Ichigo’s member pulsate in his grip, and almost feel as shot after shot of come covered both his and his lover’s bodies, and slowly dribbled over his fingers. The sight of Ichigo’s body flushed and dripping with sweat and come, the sound of his name dying on Ichigo’s lips as those inner walls trembled around him, it was all too much to bear . . .

 

With a final thrust Renji shot back his head and screamed his throat hoarse, emptying himself inside Ichigo. His whole body shook and shivered, every muscle in his body going tense before sinking into complete relief, his mind blown away into utmost ecstasy that nothing else could compare to. He could feel the slight spasms as he emptied his seed, feel himself on the brink of nirvana as his heart pounded into his ears and he could feel nothing but sheer heavenly pleasure as he eventually collapsed onto the futon by Ichigo’s side.

 

He noticed that Ichigo winced as his member slid out, but he could only smile as he basked in the afterglow of the most intense orgasm of his life. He smiled warmly and wrapped his arms around his lover, pulling him tightly against him and nuzzling his head into the crook of Ichigo’s neck, inhaling the scent of sex and love. His strawberry seemed to almost purr back and entangled his hands in Renji’s, closing his eyes as if on the brink of sleep . . .

 

“I love you, Renji.”

 

Renji smiled and hugged Ichigo tightly to him, holding him passionately and warming, simply taking in the moment and swearing never to forget it for as long as he lived. It all felt so perfect, so right and he felt so insanely lucky for having such a great guy beside him who truly loved him, it was more than he could ever hope or ask for, and he’d be grateful for Ichigo until the day he died.

 

“I love you too,” He murmured, “But I got to ask, what is it that made you come after me in the first place? Not that I mind, I’m just completely grateful to even have you in my arms, but I can’t help but wondering . . . What made you go for it?”

 

Ichigo smiled as he rolled over to face Renji and gave him a chaste kiss . . .

                                                 

“One word: resolve.”

 

 

 


End file.
